


Help

by Oudemia



Series: Belonging [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Guilt, Hurt Loki, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Loki Angst, Loki Has Issues, Loki Redemption, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Nightmares, Protective Steve, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Sex as Therapy, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-16 13:19:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2271177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oudemia/pseuds/Oudemia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has made enemies along the way, but it never occurred to him that in the end, Loki might be the one to suffer. And this time there's nothing he can do to help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Victim

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to stay away for a bit, but it's so hard!  
> I'm not going to lie though, this one starts off nasty - I don't know why I would want to write something like this, but I did, and furthermore I'm glad I did (while also being a bit confused in general). Please don't judge me - I'm perfectly capable of doing that myself.  
> Um.. I hope it's ok - let me know.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: These characters belong to Marvel, sadly, and not to me.

These quiet moments are becoming rarer, which makes them even more of a treasure. They've been so busy lately - Steve out in the field, often abroad, and Loki primarily based at SHIELD headquarters, sharing his knowledge with their scientists and tacticians. Afterwards they aren't allowed to discuss their work with each other, but that's fine because that's the last thing they want to do during their downtime. Sometimes they barely leave Stark Tower, seeing their friends occasionally and spending hours at a time together in their rooms. Tony makes jokes about it that bring the colour to Steve's cheeks, and it is true that the passing of a year has seen no diminishment whatsoever in the passion of their shared intimacy, but that is not the whole truth. Much of their time together is spent in conversation, and at times they don't talk at all, preferring to enjoy the blissful companionship of silence.

 

This is one of those familiar silences. They are sitting next to each other on the couch, Loki curled comfortably around a book, and Steve simply resting with his eyes half-closed and his legs propped up on a footstool. Although each appears unaware of the other's presence, they both have one arm stretched along the back of the sofa and their hands are lightly intertwined, one of Loki's fingers tracing small circles around Steve's knuckle.

 

It's Steve who breaks the silence, a reflective quality in his voice. 'I've been thinking about your father.'

 

The movement of Loki's finger ceases but he doesn't look up from his book, turning a page casually. 'Which one?'

 

Steve withdraws his hand and turns to face him but Loki refuses to meet his gaze as Steve presses on. 'The adoptive one, Odin. You never talk about him, why do you think that is?'

 

Loki's studied air of indifference is starting to waver, and there's a note of tension in his voice as he answers, 'If you wish to pick a fight with me, you could just say so. You know there are subjects I do not care to discuss, even with you.'

 

'Yes but why?' Steve shifts nearer to him along the couch. 'If someone had done to me what he did to you, I'd want revenge. I'd want to know that he suffered. But you don't even mention his name - why is that?'

 

The words on the page are now a jumble of meaningless lines. Loki's concentration is broken but he struggles to regain the mental equilibrium of a moment before. 'I simply do not wish to. I have enough in my life now that I do not need to dwell on past grievances. I want to forget that he exists.'

 

'Of course, that's what I figured. Because you're weak.' 

 

Finally Loki looks up, and a second later the side of his head explodes with pain as he finds himself flung violently to the floor. Momentarily dazed, a warm metallic taste in his mouth, it takes him a few seconds to realise that Steve has struck him. He isn't even angry, he's too shocked as he watches Steve rise calmly to his feet and look down at him. His expression is one with which Loki is all too familiar, but one he never ever thought he would see on his lover's face. It's the way a master looks at a slave, as if he's nothing, or less than nothing. Cold fingers clutch at his heart and his stomach knots painfully. He pushes himself up onto his knees but his legs are shaking and he can't seem to find the energy to stand. Perhaps it's the shock, but his strength is utterly drained and at this moment he feels powerless.

 

'You see, you're weak,' repeats Steve. 'That's what your father realised. And weak people are there to be trampled down - they don't deserve any better.'

 

He takes a step toward Loki, who shrinks away from him, horrified and pleading, 'Steve, what is it? Why..?' 

 

'Why? You're asking me why?' From its flat cold expression, Steve's face suddenly becomes grotesque with loathing and his voice seethes with it. 'Because you're you. You're the antithesis of everything I stand for, and I've endured you for far too long already.' And he takes another step forward, raising his hand.

 

Loki lifts a trembling arm, hoping to restrain him using magic, but nothing happens and he isn't even surprised. Of course this would happen. How could he have supposed that his fortunes could turn so quickly for the better, that his powers would be restored to him and he would find himself accepted and valued, loved even? It was a foolish dream and now at last he is waking up. Or rather, being roughly awoken.

 

Steve slaps him hard across the face with the back of his hand. It hurts like hell, and Loki feels his lip split. He feels human and vulnerable, and yet Steve stands there, towering over him in all his glorious invincibility. It's as if he's the god, and Loki is only a lowly mortal. And would he have been any better if he had succeeded in gaining a throne? He looks up and Steve hits him again, the impact whipping his head round. He feels a flash of bright anger, and instantly sees Steve's face harden.

 

'How dare you look at me like that?' The Captain's voice is low and menacing. 'And how dare you try and use your filthy pagan magic on me? I guess your last owner didn't spend long enough disciplining you. Well, it's never too late.' He advances on Loki who scrambles away on instinct until his back hits the wall. His heart is fluttering in his chest and it seems that it isn't just his magic and his strength that have deserted him, it's his courage too. He is terrified of Steve.

 

 **Don't be afraid.** The voice is startlingly clear in his head, and for a second he can smell magic, sweet and cloying.

 

But then the horror and immediacy of his situation drag him back as he stares up at Steve's hate-filled expression and begs, 'What's happening to you?'

 

'Nothing's happening to me, I'm just finally being honest with you. Not that you deserve honesty, Liar. Thief.... _Murderer_.'

 

Steve reaches down and grabs a fistful of Loki's hair, hauling him to his feet. He bends Loki's head back painfully, his fingers snarled in the curls at the nape of his neck, and Loki's breath catches in his throat. He feels exposed, sacrificial almost, and he wonders if Steve is going to kill him now. The thought makes him feel sick - not that he might die, or even that it's at Steve's hand, but that it's like this, cruel and cold and without feeling.

 

He waits for the snap of bone or the thrust of a knife, but neither comes, only that implacable voice which is somehow so much worse. 'You think we don't see you for what you really are, but we do, we all do. We use you, that's all. And when we're done we'll sling you back into the darkness where you belong.'

 

Steve throws him to the floor and kicks him viciously in the side, and he doubles up, gasping.

 

'A year of my life wasted on a worthless whore like you.' Another kick and Loki gasps as he feels something break in his chest. 'But you make it so easy. You're begging to be used, just so long as we notice you.' Then a horrible sneer twists Steve's features, and it looks so out of place on his face that Loki barely recognises him. 'How about you show me how grateful you are? For old times' sake.'

 

Steve reaches down to grab him by the wrists and starts to drag him across the room to the bed. Loki's mind goes blank with terror. No. Not this. Not again. He struggles violently but it's no use at all, Steve's grip is like iron. He might as well be wrestling with the Hulk. Unable to break free, he swallows down the humiliation and cries out for help at last.

 

'JARVIS, call Stark, now!'

 

Is it his imagination or does the voice of the AI sound more disdainful than usual as it answers him? 'I'm afraid I'm no longer programmed to respond to your commands, Sir.'

 

Steve laughs nastily. 'What did you think? That you were one of us?' He twists one of Loki's wrists painfully until the bones crack and he wails, a sound of desperation as much as pain. 'Do you really believe that Stark or any of the others would lift a finger to help you? You're trash, your own people disowned you and mine want you dead. What are you good for except this?'

 

Steve hurls Loki onto his back on the bed, and before the god can move, he pins him down, his knees on either side of Loki's hips. He takes both Loki's wrists in one powerful hand and pins them above his head, while the other moves lasciviously down the god's pinioned body. Breathing heavily, Steve rips open the front of Loki's t-shirt and rakes his chest hard with his nails, bringing up angry red welts. But the cold way he looks him up and down - that hurts far far more. Loki feels two hot tears of shame run down the side of his face and he doesn't care.

 

'Please don't, Steve, you can't do this. Look at me.'

 

Steve pulls back and spits in his face. 

 

'I am looking at you, and do you know what I see? Corruption, evil and death. This face and this body, sure, they're lovely to look at, but it's all just a shell, and under it you're nothing but rot. I'm going to ruin those good looks so that no-one else is ever fooled by them again. And then you're going to show me what really lies beneath.'

 

 **This isn't you. You are not a victim.** The calm voice echoes in his head again, but his mind is flitting about like a frightened animal and he can't follow the words.

 

Steve's free hand moves down to undo the buckle of his belt and at that moment the look on his face is terrifying. There's lust there, but what mostly burns in his eyes is hatred and cruelty. Loki squirms desperately under him, knowing all the time that it's useless, that all he can do is make Steve angrier. And he's right. Steve's fist breaks his nose and as he feels warm blood running down into his throat, he begins to choke on it. Somewhere in what remains of his mind, he is glad - death might be a kinder alternative.

 

'No, you don't escape that easily.' Roughly, Steve flips him over onto his stomach and he coughs wetly, spattering the sheets with bright red. He hears Steve behind him, sounding almost affectionate. 'You, face-down and choking in your own blood, now that's a beautiful sight. I don't know why we didn't try this sooner.' 

Steve puts his mouth to Loki's ear and his voice is low and vicious as he croons, 'I bet you like it when I hurt you. You get off on it. Because deep down in your rotten soul you know you deserve it.'

 

**No. Not this. Not ever.**

 

Steve laughs harshly. 'What am I saying? A monster like you doesn't have a soul. You're just... you're worse than nothing. Say it - you're worthless.'

 

Loki makes a last desperate attempt to escape, but feels two hard blows to the back of his head and things become hazy with pain. His head is swimming and he can't move without a wave of nausea overwhelming him. He feels his clothing being ripped and hears the clink of Steve's belt buckle again. Driven by the memory of fear more than fear itself, he bucks weakly then cries out as a sharp searing pain slices across his back with a crack of leather. 

 

'Say it! Admit that you're nothing.'

 

He can't. He won't. And four more lashes carve deep furrows of pain into his flesh. Just as he thinks he might pass mercifully into unconsciousness, he feels the belt being looped around his wrists and pulled tight behind his back. Only dimly aware of what is to come, he buries his face in the sheets, willing himself not to exist, to be gone.

 

'No, I want you to look at me. Look into my eyes and tell me what you see.'

 

He feels himself being turned over again, limp as a corpse. Daggers of pain twist into the raw wounds on his back, and the strain on his arms, trapped under him now, is agonising.

 

Steve's eyes are frenzied, furious, the eyes of the enemy, as he demands, 'What are you? Tell me!'

 

**Loki. You're Loki.**

 

'Fine, if you won't tell me, then I'll just have to show you what you are. What you have been all along.'

 

He feels Steve's knee forcing his legs apart, and a rough hand reaching down, groping, spreading. The fear is gone now and in its place there is only hopelessness. If this is really going to happen, then what hope can there ever be? Steve lowers his own clothing and raises Loki's hips, then pushes into him roughly without care or preparation. The pain blinds him and drives all the breath from his body - he struggles for air, but each thrust forces a small groan or a whimper from his aching lungs until there is nothing left. He is empty of everything but the pain. 

 

The creature on top of him, who is Steve and yet isn't him, works like a machine, relentless, implacable. Loki tries to turn his face away so that he doesn't have to look at that dear familiar face devoid of love or humanity, but each time Steve grabs his chin and forces his head back. He tries to shut his eyes but Steve growls at him to open them if he doesn't want to lose his eyelids. The soldier's breath is hot on his face, and coming faster now as he nears a climax. And through the pain, Loki feels the fear resurface because after this, what then? He has lived long enough and suffered enough to know that however bad things get, they could always be a little worse.

 

At last Steve finishes with an inhuman grunt and collapses on top of him. Despite the pain in his shoulders, made almost unbearable by Steve's added weight, Loki stays still and quiet, until he feels Steve stir above him. He looks up into blue eyes which crawl with malevolent satisfaction. If they had been green, he thinks madly, he would have recognised that same look from years before. His own evil coming back to take hideous vengeance on him for turning his back on it. It's then that he realises how close he is to losing his sanity at last. He'd managed to cling to it through the years of torture, but he isn't made of stone. Some things are too much for anyone to bear.

 

**Not for you. Even this will not break you. Listen to me.**

 

He tries, but Steve's voice drowns out the one in his head, taunting him. 'You're a good fuck, nothing more. Say it.'

 

**Don't.**

 

Steve sinks his teeth into the flesh of Loki's shoulder but the god barely has the strength to make a sound. Barely..

 

'I...' 

 

It's more of an exhalation than a word, but Steve turns back to him, his gaze triumphant. 

 

'Yes?'

 

Loki coughs up blood again, and Steve slaps him, but lightly this time, almost playfully. 'Tell me, slut.'

 

It's only a whisper but Loki says the only thing he has left, the only thing that matters. Because he knows he's going to die now and he wants this to be the last thing that passes his lips.

 

'I love you.'

 

Steve snarls with rage. His fingers close around Loki's throat and the god feels his airway cut off, but is powerless to prevent it. But then why would he want to go on, knowing what he knows now? Steve watches dispassionately as Loki's struggles grow feebler, and his callous words cut through the rushing of blood in his ears.

 

'Do you understand now how pathetic you are? Your own father handed you over to your enemies as a slave. Your brother abandoned you for two whole years, even though he knew what was happening to you. Everyone you consider a friend has tried to kill you at one time.'

 

**Fight this.**

 

'Your brother hates you, your father hates you, you have no friends.'

 

**You know that isn't true.**

 

Steve's face seems to grow in size as he watches Loki die, and he fills the god's vision as his lips form the words, 'You're mine now. Forever.'

 

Just before Loki passes out he imagines that he sees Steve's face blur into that of his former master, and then briefly into a grinning chalk-white death's head with a shock of green hair, and finally he tries to scream but he can't because..

 

**Wake up. Now!**

 

Loki jerks awake to the sound of choking, and a strong voice filled with a terror which echoes his own.

 

'Breathe.. come on, breathe! Please Loki!'

 

Throwing his head back, he gulps for air and his constricted throat opens just a little, just enough to allow oxygen to trickle into his starved lungs. Each breath is a thin wheezing gasp, but the relief in the voice is almost euphoric.

 

'Loki Loki Loki..'

 

He feels strong arms enfold him and at once he panics and begins to thrash against them. As the arms loosen their grip, Loki twists away and lands heavily on his hands and knees on the floor with a harsh cry. He scrambles up and whirls round to face his aggressor. 'Stay back!'

 

With a shock that seems to strike him physically in the chest, Loki recognises Steve sitting on their bed in a tangle of sheets, and his throat closes up again with panic. For a moment the look of concern and love on Steve's face seems unnatural to him - where is the rage, the hate and the twisted cruelty? Steve climbs off the bed and starts toward him, and he brings both arms up in self-defence.

 

'I said stay back.' But Loki's voice is barely more than a whisper now, and he drops silently to the floor.

 

 

The blood roars in his ears and his chest is tight. He is kneeling, his forehead nearly touching his knees, his hands braced on the ground. This is real, it's real, it's real, he tells himself, and yet what happened before, that seemed no less real to him. To not be able to trust one's own mind like that - what could be more horrifying?

 

'I'm not... I'm not..' But in the end even he doesn't know what he's trying to say.

 

'No, no, no, whatever it was, it was just a dream, Loki. Let it go.'

 

Steve kneels in front of him, and Loki watches his hands warily. Noticing this, Steve keeps them carefully at his sides, but leans forward to touch his forehead against Loki's. The contact sends a jolt through him, but then gradually he relaxes into it and lets it ground him. They stay like that for a while until Loki's breathing slows right down and he straightens up. 

 

Steve's face is white, and his expression still haggard with worry as he asks, 'Why isn't the magic working?'

 

Loki looks over at the herbs burning in a clay bowl beside the bed. 'It is working. It was better that time.'

 

Steve lets out an explosive breath. 'It didn't sound better.'

 

'No, it was. I am beginning to hear my own mind again.' 

 

Sighing, Steve reaches out a hand to touch Loki's face, but the god draws back sharply and Steve looks as though he's just been punched in the gut. 

 

'God... oh god.' The anguish on his kind honest face is painful to watch. 'Again?' 

 

Loki wants to comfort him, but somehow he can't quite bring himself to close the distance between them, not just yet, and instead he rises unsteadily to his feet. 'I.. think I need to be alone, just for a while. Please?' 

 

He turns away so that he doesn't have to see the hurt look on his lover's face, and behind him he hears Steve say quietly. 'This is all my fault.'

 

Loki turns on him defensively. 'It is not your fault. Do you think I blame you for an instant? No, I blame him!'

 

Steve's face is miserable. 'But if it wasn't for me, he wouldn't be attacking you in the first place. Nightmare wants revenge on me and he's going after the people I love most. And the worst of it is that he's doing it in the one place I can't protect you.'

 

Loki looks down at him with a sad smile. 'Then let me protect myself. I am so close to finding the right spell, and then I will defeat this. For nearly three years I have not dreamt, and now this. It just caught me unprepared, that is all.'

 

Steve nods. 'You'll be fine, I know it.' Loki wonders if he realises how unconvincing he sounds and yet he loves him desperately for trying.

 

'I won't be out long,' he promises, and Steve Rogers is still kneeling wretchedly on the floor as he pulls the door shut after him.

 

Once outside the building, Loki fills his lungs with great draughts of the cool night air and lets the phrase surface in his mind again, calming him. You are not a victim. No, and he is not helpless either. The sick feeling in his heart is ebbing away and in its place is determination, and the will to prevail. He is already beginning to find a way through this, but he is aware that he has exhausted the limits of his resources. The spells, the magic herbs, he has tried everything he can think of, and while they are helping, they are not, on their own, enough. He knows what he has to do, and while every instinct in his body is rebelling against it, he also knows that he will override them. For Steve, because he couldn't bear to let him live with the guilt of this. And, yes, also for himself, because he is starting to realise what everyone else seems to have known all their lives - that it is not a weakness to ask for help.

 

Taking one more luxuriant breath and letting it out with a long deep sigh, Loki looks up to the heavens, toward Asgard, and utters the words like a prayer.

 

'Hear me, Heimdall. I am asking for your help, and for that of the queen. You are my last hope - please.'

 

He turns back toward Stark Tower, but then hesitates, because he knows he still isn't ready to face Steve. So instead he walks away in the opposite direction and tries to lose himself for a while in the lonely maze of streets.

 


	2. Villain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi - thanks for reading! I'm sorry it's all quite upsetting (at least it's upsetting me) - that's just how it's coming out. It's true, we always hurt the ones we love, but then we have Steve come and make them better, so hopefully that's ok?  
> This chapter does have non-permanent character death, and suicidal thoughts, so please don't read on if you'd rather avoid those. I'm not a good sleeper and I may be projecting a bit, so this is more dark than I usually go..  
> x

Loki still doesn't like surprises. Even now, a year after his release, he can't bring himself to take for granted this sense of control over his own life, and he carries with him a habitual wariness. Fortunately the others know this and they don't take advantage of the fact - for his sake and for theirs, as it's generally unwise to creep up behind someone who's capable of breaking both your arms before they realise who you are. So when Loki enters the living area at the top of Stark Tower, there's no clamour, no party blowers and nobody jumps out from behind the sofa in a funny hat. It's just the six of them sprawled around the room waiting for him. Loki's cautiousness kicks in all the same and he hangs back by the doorway, glancing around the room with narrowed eyes. But then Steve comes over to him smiling and takes his hand, and leads him over to the sofa where Tony is already opening a bottle of champagne with a practised flourish.

All the same, Loki is still a little suspicious. 'JARVIS told me that there was a problem with which you required my immediate assistance. I am sensing that perhaps I have been misinformed?'

Tony looks decidedly pleased with himself. 'Yeah, and I never stop getting a kick out of lying to the God of Lies! No, we've got more important business tonight, and we knew you'd make some lame excuse if we told you up front.' He fills seven glasses and everyone takes one except Loki, who is still watching him with a dubious expression. Tony rolls his eyes. 'Relax, it's not an intervention or anything. It's more of an anniversary really - let's call it a belated welcome party for the newest member of the team.' He raises his glass and the penny finally drops. Has it really been an entire year? Steve gently places the last glass in Loki's unresisting hand, and raises his own as Tony continues.

'I'll keep it brief because there's serious drinking to be done, but this has been a long time coming and we - everyone, that is,' and he waves an arm around the room, 'thought it needed to be said. I'm not going to use the 'A' word tonight, but all of us, this team - you created us. Fury brought us all together to fight you, so we wouldn't all be here together if it wasn't for you. But things have changed, and however things started out between us, you've turned them around, and saved all our asses on more than one occasion and, well, we wouldn't all be here together if it wasn't for you. You didn't think much of us back when we first met, I know that, but I hope you feel differently now, because whatever we are, Loki, you're one of us.'

Glasses are raised and drained and Loki turns to Steve and sees pride written all over his face. He can only imagine what his own expression must be as he struggles to compose himself. 'You should say something,' Steve whispers, and he realises that everyone is waiting expectantly. The affectionate smiles on their faces, the feeling of acceptance, it goes straight to his head like strong liquor and he feels unsteady he rises to his feet. He opens his mouth to speak and is suddenly struck by the strange certainty that all of this has happened before. This is a memory of something recent, a good memory that he treasures. He is assailed by a barrage of images from later in the evening - a great deal of champagne, Thor trying to teach everyone an Asgardian drinking song, Natasha laughing - the first time he'd seen that, vodka, more laughing, and himself and Clint throwing knives at apples balanced on each others' heads until Steve put a stop to it. He remembers Bruce and Natasha dancing together, hot sake, getting into a heated argument with Tony about music, and later, much later, he remembers Steve pulling him to his feet and slipping steadying arms around him. 'I believe you are drunk,' he had mumbled into Steve's neck, making the Captain laugh and squeeze him tighter. 'I think I had better get you to bed.'  
The evening was magical (in the human sense of the word), one of his happiest memories, and here he is again, reliving it. His mind starts to delve, to question, but then just as quickly as they appeared, the memories fade like warm breath on a windowpane, and he forgets to wonder about it and simply lets the evening unfold once more.

A little later, he is over in the kitchen with Natasha, watching her hack at an ice brick and collect the shards in a large bowl. Suddenly there's a crash from across the room and a burst of male laughter. Steve should have learnt by now that taking Thor on at arm-wrestling isn't going to end well. Loki smirks fondly and turns back to Natasha, who is sucking at her finger - the noise had startled her and the ice pick had slipped, cutting deep. Loki pours her a drink and hands her a clean dishcloth to stop the bleeding, while he wipes the scattered ruby drops from the work surface with another.

'Can you wipe out that much red?'

He looks up, surprised by the tone of her voice, and sees her staring at him with cold spite in her eyes. The echo of his own words from years before catches him like a slap across the face and he feels a shiver of dread. And at the same time some part of him is protesting against this sudden change in mood. No, he thinks, without understanding why, this isn't how it happened. This is new. Meanwhile Natasha is looking at him with such contempt as she takes a sip from her glass that he takes a step back from the sheer force of it.

She continues, his bitter words like ghastly spectres returning to haunt him.'You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors. But they are a part of you, and they will never go away!'

Almost immediately she begins to cough and choke, and a few drops of blood fall from her nose and hang in the clear liquid. She looks down at them, then back up to him in horror. 'What did you do?'

'No, I..'

But she's running her finger round the rim of the glass and sniffing it, and then the glass falls from her hand with a crash. The others turn around in surprise, but she's still staring at Loki, her eyes wide. He tries to go to her, to reassure her, but he's frozen to the spot and he can only watch as her lips turn blue and she sways on her feet. And just before her eyes roll back and she slumps to the floor, she leans toward him and hisses through blood-stained teeth,

'You're a monster.'

After that, everything happens very quickly. Loki feels movement behind him and whirls around to see Clint lunging at him, his face twisted into a snarl. It isn't instinct which makes him step out of the way and grab Clint by the neck, it's something else - something moving him like a puppet on strings. He feels his grip tighten and Clint's face turns red, but the expression of hatred doesn't waver as the archer manages to gasp, 'I knew that trusting you was a mistake - you were always going turn on us one day. It's who you are, you're a killer.'

**No.**   The voice in his head is clear and calm, but he can't listen, he doesn't understand what's happening. He's out of control and now he's hearing voices too - is this madness? It seems like it as he feels his hands move and hears Clint's neck snap between his fingers. He throws his head back and howls his horror and desperation, but somehow it comes out sounding like crazed laughter and he looks over to see the others staring at him as if he's deranged. Steve is open-mouthed with shock, one hand reaching out toward him pleadingly. No, he wants to say, this isn't me, please believe me, but he is trapped, a prisoner in his own body.

**They know. Trust them - they know who you are. And so do you.**

But at this moment, he can't be sure. He has followed this path once before, so why not again? Maybe he isn't strong enough to resist the pull of evil from the core of his being, and it's sucking him in again. He looks at Steve, hoping that he of all people will be able to read the message in his eyes, that he tried, that he's sorry. But he feels his lips being drawn into a wide grin, and he sees no understanding in Steve's expression, only sadness and revulsion.

Tony recovers first, and Loki sees him reach for a bracelet on the table. Before he can grasp it however, Loki feels himself propelled forward until his hand clamps around Tony's throat. He can see the fear in his friend's eyes, and hurt at the betrayal of trust. 'Everything about you is a lie,' Stark whispers, and Loki tries to look away but he can't turn his head or close his eyes. No, he thinks, you weren't mistaken, it's the truth, but meanwhile his treacherous limbs are dragging Tony remorselessly toward the window. Stop me, please, someone, he pleads silently, but nobody does, and his self-loathing knows no bounds as he watches himself hurl his helpless friend through the thickened glass.

'NO!!' The cries come from behind him, but they feel as though they're ripped from his own chest. Dark despair fills him, and as he steps back, he catches his own reflection in the shattered window, a hateful gloating presence, now clad in leathered armour and shimmering gold horns. Was he deceiving himself that he could ever have been anything else?

**This not who you are. You are not the villain.**

Then what am I?

'Loki, what are you doing? Are you mad??' Thor's face is aghast, but of course he has gone straight to the heart of the matter. There is no other answer. He is mad, and they have all made a grave error in trusting him. At least they will see that now, and will be forced to stop him. The humans couldn't stand in his way, but Thor, and Banner, maybe even Steve - they'll be able to take him down before he turns on anyone else. He can't, he won't spend the rest of his life in this vile dungeon that is himself.

Steve steps up behind Thor and places his hand on the god's shoulder. 'I'm sorry Thor,' he says gently, 'but there's only one way to end this - we have to kill him.'

And yes, he's right, but to hear those words on his lover's lips, so calmly spoken, tears at Loki like knives. Because he knows that if the tables were turned, and the only option was to destroy Steve Rogers, then he couldn't do it. He'd let the world burn first, and himself with it.

And it hurts almost as much to hear Thor say with resignation, 'I know. I always knew that it would come to this. Our father knew that Loki could not be cured of his evil, though I tried to believe in him because he was my brother.'

Loki's brother and his lover stand together and turn their gaze on him, full of disappointment and condemnation. And an icy hand seems to squeeze at his heart as he hears Thor say the words, 'But now I finally understand, I have no brother. I never did.'

A shadow falls over Loki and he turns around to see the vast green form of the Hulk towering above him. It seems apt that they are standing in the exact spot where the beast last defeated him, although this time he knows that he won't survive it. And that is for the best. He looks up into those furious green eyes.. no, wait, blue eyes.... since when were they blue? And with sickening dread, he lowers his gaze to see the Chitauri spear grasped in his own hand, the tip pressed to the monster's chest. All is lost.

'Kneel.'

Loki hears his own voice, a purr of venomous satisfaction. The Hulk drops to his knees before him and he puts his hand on the creature's bowed head. Mastery has come at last, but it has come too late - this is not what he wants. He wants his friends back, he wants not to be hated and feared by those he loves, and he wants... god, he wants Steve, so much that it hurts, a deep physical pain within his chest.

But instead he has to hear himself give the command to attack, and he has to watch as the Hulk tears Thor limb from limb as if he's made of crepe paper. And the dull pain in his chest turns to fire, flooding his lungs with choking blackness. Despite all the things he's done, no-one, he thinks, could ever have hated him as much as he hates himself right now.

Loki already knows what's coming next. Time seems to slow to a crawl as he watches Steve Rogers charge toward him with vengeance in his eyes. He's beautiful in his anger, every inch a hero, and Loki tries so desperately to stay in control of himself. But he doesn't even know there's a knife in his hand until he sees it slice through Steve's throat and feels the hot arterial blood gushing down his arm. As he watches the life drain from his love, unable even to reach out and touch him, Loki thinks back on all the times in his life when he came close to death, and he curses himself for surviving. He would gladly have died a thousand times rather than live through the hell of this moment.

Steve's face is terrible as he puts his fingers to his throat and holds them out accusingly toward Loki. His windpipe is severed, and yet his voice seems to echo around the room as he whispers 'Avenge us. Kill yourself.'

Finally Loki regains control of his limbs, and he takes Steve's weight and lowers him gently to the floor. But it's too late, he's gone, and the body Loki holds in his arms is already changing, its face becoming withered and skull-like and its hair sprouting wildly like green weeds. And the corpse stirs uncannily, whispering again, 'Kill yourself. Join me.'

Loki rises slowly to his full height, his arms glistening to the elbow and his hands dripping red. He catches sight of himself in the glass again and stares, fascinated. It's so obvious now. Even if there never was any part of him that was good, at least his final act will be a good one, in ridding the world of this monster. And in truth, he can't think of a single reason not to do what he's about to do as he turns the knife on himself and prepares to strike.

**Loki, no! Wake up!**

The voice is a woman's, shrill with alarm, and it sends a convulsion through his entire body. He feels himself draw a gasping breath and the room darkens around him. As he awakes, he finds himself still standing but in his own bedroom, and instead of the carnage around him, there is only Steve and one other figure, that of his mother, Frigga. Steve's hands are wrapped around his and there is abject terror in his eyes - Loki can't make out the reason until Steve slowly, cautiously, releases his grip and Loki can make out the dagger in his own hands, its tip aimed at his heart. He lets it fall to the ground and stumbles back numbly.

'Loki...' Steve's voice is trembling, but he's alive, and the feeling of relief is indescribable. But still the horror of the dream remains and Loki can't forget what he's done. It was too clear, too real for that. Steve moves forward, putting a gentle hand on his arm, and Loki wrenches away, his eyes wild.

'Don't touch me!'

Steve shudders and closes his eyes briefly. 'I'm so sorry, Loki, but whatever it was you saw me do.. '

Loki lets out a sharp laugh, and even he can hear the madness in it. 'Not you, me. You have to get away from me, I'm not safe. You can't trust me.'

Steve is shaking his head and reaching for him again, but Loki pushes him harshly away. 'No! I can't do this - every time I sleep...' He holds up his hands, as if Steve will be able to see the blood on them. 'Either you kill me, or I kill you.' He laughs again, but this time it's a hollow, sad sound. He needs to get away, far away from the people he loves, so that he won't ever have the chance to hurt them.

'I have to go', he says emptily, and he pushes past Steve, heading for the door. And finds it blocked.

'Hiding from this will solve nothing, my son.' Frigga's voice is gentle but determined. 'If you leave now, you are letting evil triumph over you.'

Usually the mere presence of his mother is enough to calm Loki's mind, but he is too agitated right now - his life is falling apart, and very likely his mind too - and he snaps at her, 'It already has triumphed. I cannot fight this, and I won't let it use me to endanger others. Get out of my way, Mother, and let me leave.'

'No, Loki.' He feels her calm voice begin to weaken his resolve and he fights against it as she continues, 'We let you go once, and it took us years to get you back. I won't let you give up on yourself again.' Frigga moves toward him and touches his cheek with her hand, and Loki feels the comfort flow into him. 'Do not forget who you are, my son. Your strength has kept you going until now, and it will not let you down. You have more power than you know - trust it.'

Loki wants to believe her, but it's taking all his courage just to stay in this room and he doesn't feel brave, or strong, he feels like a child with no control over his own life, lost and vulnerable. Frigga points to the smoking bowl of herbs. 'We are nearly there - please have patience, my darling. Together we will find the solution, and defeat this, I promise you.'

And in his confusion, Loki turns helplessly to Steve. 'I.. do not know what to do.'

He has never been in any doubt that Steve's love is real, but he realises at this moment that he may have underestimated the true depth of it. The look on Steve's face right now is pure agony, and Loki thinks back on all the times in their relationship that he has been selfish. Again and again, his concern for his lover's safety has eclipsed any thought of his own, and it has genuinely never sunk in until now that the same might also hold true. He wants to offer something, to show that he has understood, and perhaps there is something he can give. Since the very start of their relationship, Steve has been so careful not to make demands, and Loki has never sought any advice but his own. Still, maybe, just this once...

'If you tell me what to do,' he tells Steve carefully, 'I will do it. I swear.'

He could almost laugh at the look of surprise on the Captain's face, but he waits patiently for the full import to sink in. Finally Steve answers, and Loki is both relieved and filled with apprehension as he says, 'Stay. Let us help you.'

Something about him must have visibly relaxed a little, because Steve clearly feels able to approach him again and take his hands. 'I can't imagine how awful it must be for you, but I'll help you, your mother is helping you, and I know we'll get through this.' Loki closes his eyes and tries to believe him, and he feels lips gently brushing his own. 'Don't you know that I'll fight for you?' Steve whispers. 'Even if you could give up on yourself, and I don't think you will, I never could. You're my life. I could no sooner stop breathing than give you up.'

Steve's grip tightens on his hands, and his mother steps up behind him to rest her hands on his shoulders, and for just a few moments, held like that between them, Loki pretends that he feels safe.


	3. Beloved

Steve knows perfectly well that there are things Loki doesn't tell him. He even understands to some extent - he's a good listener, but he himself is a relatively uncomplex person and there are limits to his insights into the human psyche. Or indeed the non-human one. He's glad Loki can talk to Tony, that he's found a friend he can confide in unreservedly, but he'd be lying if he said it didn't bother him from time to time. Yes, there's the jealousy that gnaws at him occasionally, because he wants to be able to give Loki everything he needs, to be the sole centre of his universe. But there's also a touch of guilt there that he can't deny. What if Loki doesn't confide in him because he can sense that deep down, Steve doesn't want him to? 

After the initial revelation about Loki's horrific treatment at the hands of his masters, they haven't broached the subject in any depth, and although Steve tells himself that he's being tactful and respecting Loki's feelings, a part of him whispers that no, it's cowardice that holds him back. Because the truth is, he doesn't want to hear about it - how could he? It was painful enough hearing it back then, when Loki could still be termed an enemy, but to hear it again now from the lips of his dearest friend and deepest love? That would be unbearable. But does Loki sense his reluctance? Does he wish to talk about his past and yet feel unable, not wanting to upset Steve? That too would be unbearable.

Steve knows that what's happening now isn't PTSD - it isn't suppressed trauma affecting Loki's dreams, it's a deliberate and malicious act of vengeance, and yet.. the trauma may not exactly be helping matters. Stark is Loki's only outlet for facing the ravages of his past, and god knows the man has demons enough of his own. For three years Loki didn't dream, and he refused point blank to undergo therapy even when SHIELD had made it a condition of his amnesty. (It had turned into a quite a shouting match and the only time Steve had ever witnessed Nick Fury back down, faced with a furious and highly overwrought Norse deity.) So, two years of torture, abuse and rape (and he doesn't often allow himself even to think the word), followed by a year of relative denial, and now this.. Loki must have been the perfect victim - his nightmares were just waiting to come to life.

*

So they have a plan now, and although nobody's prepared to comment on its chances of success, it's all they have. Loki refuses to sleep at all now. He paces the tower constantly, his eyes red-rimmed and haunted, and at one point he disappeared for two days straight and Steve still doesn't know where he went. He's jittery and defensive in Steve's presence, and when Steve finally corners him in his bedroom and broaches the subject of sleep, he is met with outright hostility.

'I can't.'

'Why not?'

Loki glares at him with something resembling hatred and Steve repeats himself quietly. 'Why not?'

'Because I'm afraid to,' spits Loki. 'Are you happy now?'

'Of course not! It's killing me to see you suffer like this. If I could go in your place I would, but I can't - you're the only one who can finish it.'

Loki turns away from him abruptly, and his voice is small. 'I know. But I hate this.'

'I hate it too, watching you in pain and not being able to do anything to help. At least talk to me - tell me what you're thinking right now.'

Loki pauses and his eyes turn inward. 'I have such thoughts as I do not like to admit, even to myself.'

Steve steels himself. This is his chance to show Loki that he can be strong enough to hear him out, to share the burden of his pain. 'Will you admit them to me? You never know, maybe it'll help a little.' 

Loki still looks dubious but at least he's distracted and Steve pushes on. 'Please. I need you to know that you can tell me anything, and I'll never stop loving you. Sometimes I don't think you believe that, but try me. Seriously, trust me, I won't fail you.'

Loki's eyes flicker around the room as if seeking an escape, but finally he heaves a deep sigh and shakes his head. 'You are right, I do not believe it. But just this once, I will let myself be persuaded.' He stops and is silent for a moment, but Steve knows better than to interrupt. He just waits for Loki to find the right words, and at last the god begins, falteringly. 'I am so very afraid and I hate myself for my cowardice because I want this all to be over, even if it means my death.' Steve draws in a sharp breath, but Loki continues, his eyes downcast. 'I do not wish to die, but I fear the loss of myself even more. Because I have been to a place where I lost everything and all that remained was the knowledge of who I was. I cannot lose that too, I cannot... ' Exhausted, Loki steadies himself on the back of a chair, and Steve resists the urge to go to him just yet. As his physical strength wavers, the god's voice seems to be growing stronger. 'There is even a part of me which wants to give in to this, to become mad, because then it will have been my choice, and that will become who I am. I could give myself up to evil impulses once more, and let that define me. But I know that would be weak, and I hate myself even more for thinking it. And besides all this, I know that I am a danger to you, but I haven't the courage to leave you, and then I resent you for making me love you too much. My hands are tied, I am helpless and that is anathema to me. I would be strong, for you and for myself, but instead... How can you love such a puling wretch?' Loki's voice breaks with emotion, but it's anger Steve hears behind the words, not fear, and he realises he can use that. He steps forward and Loki takes a step back, his eyes blazing. 'I am poison,' he cries. 'You should despise me as I despise myself. How can you bear to touch me?'

Steve takes another step forward and as Loki's back hits the wall, he hisses like a cornered animal. The air around him crackles with magic and Steve feels the hair stand up on his forearms.

'I'm going to tell you what you are,' he says calmly, 'and you're going to listen to me, ok?' Loki doesn't nod, but he fixes his eyes on Steve's and slumps against the wall. 'You're not poison, you've been poisoned,' Steve tells him, 'and we need to draw it out. I understand that these thoughts are coming from a real place, but they are just thoughts. We all have dark anxieties that torment us, yes, even me, but we survive by remembering that they aren't real and they can't destroy us. Your anxieties and fears are going to be darker and deeper than most people's because of what you've been through, but that doesn't make them any more real. They're being amplified and used against you, but once we've defeated Nightmare, you need to let them go. You think you hate yourself right now, but I'm not so sure. I think you're furious with everyone who's hurt you, and Nightmare is twisting it, turning it back on you. Use it, and turn it against him. You're not weak, you've never been weak - you have power that dazzles me. I know what you think, secretly you believe that I only love you because I don't know the real you.' Loki's mouth opens and closes again. 'Thanks for not denying it. But that's not fair on me. Sure, you know all the details and I don't, but I see the big picture and I'm not sure you do. To me you're not a bunch of good points and bad points which I can weigh up against each other - you're just you, you're astonishing, and there's nothing about you that I'm not in love with. Does that make sense to you?'

He has barely finished when Loki darts forward and presses himself against Steve's chest, and Steve's arms go around him and hold him tight. The god is trembling like a leaf as Steve strokes the dark hair, and after a while Loki tilts his head up and kisses him hungrily. Breaking off with a gasp, he mumbles into Steve's chest, 'Just promise me you'll protect yourself. Do not forget that I am dangerous.'

Steve smiles to himself. 'You think I don't know that?'

At this, Loki stiffens but Steve doesn't loosen his hold, 'Well you weren't exactly the safe option even when we started dating, were you? And I'm not a thrill-seeker or anything like that, but I knew back then that this wasn't all going to be plain sailing. I just knew that it would be worth all the risks. And it has been - it still is.'

Loki's face forms a familiar frown and Steve can't help but laugh. 'Stop looking for excuses to get defensive - I know that expression! You're trying to decide whether to be offended or not. Well don't be. So you're dangerous, just deal with it. It comes with being powerful, reckless, exciting and unpredictable. But you're also incredibly brave, loyal, tough, smart and strong. Oh, and did I mention sinfully attractive?' He feels Loki change position subtly, his body curving against Steve's with just the right amount of pressure. Steve's hands slide through Loki's hair and he gently tilts the god's head back so he can look deep into those melting green pools. 'I fall a little more in love with you every day,' he tells Loki, 'risks and all. But I promise I'll look out for myself - you just worry about yourself until this is over, ok?'

Loki nods, his eyes softening. He takes Steve's hands and draws him back until once again he is pressed against the wall, but this time it isn't fear that crackles in the air around them. Steve holds back at first, uncertain. 'Are you sure? After those dreams, I wasn't... I thought you might need some space.'

Loki leans his head back, exposing his throat and pulls Steve's mouth down, gasping as Steve sucks gently at the delicate skin above his collarbone. 'I thought so too,' he murmurs, 'but I was wrong. What I need.. ah! What I need is.. to erase the memory. With this.' His breathing is ragged, and his body quivers under Steve's exploring lips and fingers. 'I need to forget everything but you.' Steve's hands move down to Loki's waist and firmly pull his hips forward against his own. Loki moans and his eyes flutter closed. Then abruptly he grabs Steve and spins them both around so that they collapse on the bed with Steve on top and Loki pinned beneath him. The god's spine arches sensuously and he raises his arms, crossing his wrists above his head. 'I want you to restrain me - take control, I won't fight you.'

Again Steve frowns. They've played these games in the past, but that was before the dreams and now it just seems wrong. Loki didn't tell him much about his part in the nightly torments, but he told him enough, and Steve has wondered how they will ever get past it. But now as he looks down and sees Loki gazing up at him with pleading in his eyes, suddenly he thinks he gets it. And if this is the one thing he can do to help Loki then he's damn well going to do it. He reaches up to encircle the slim wrists with one hand, holding them firmly to the bed, while the other cups the side of Loki's face. He looks down questioningly and Loki smiles back up at him, then rolls his hips slowly, pressing himself against Steve. Encouraged, Steve reaches down and rips the front of Loki's t-shirt, running his fingernails lightly down the god's chest, then soothing the marks with his tongue. At once a shiver convulses Loki's body, which Steve isn't entirely convinced is lust. At first he isn't sure he can do this but as he pulls back and takes his fill of the glorious sight before him, he feels himself grow hard. Loki is stretched out under him, dishevelled, abandoned, his eyes closed, his mouth slightly open and his breath hitching in his throat. Steve has never stopped marvelling at the beauty of him, but now he really takes time to savour it, and his body reacts accordingly.

Loki senses Steve watching him and opens his eyes - there's no fear in them now, only hunger, as he whispers, 'Tell me you love me.'

'I love you.. so much. God...'

'Tell me I am not nothing.'

'You're not nothing, you're everything. You're my whole world.'

'And you are mine.' Loki wraps his legs around Steve's waist sending a rush of heat to his groin. 'Tell me that I belong only to you.'

Steve gasps, 'You do. You're mine, forever, I won't ever let you go.'

The god's pupils are so wide his eyes are almost black as he almost growls, 'Now make me believe it.'

 

Afterwards as they lie sprawled across each other, Steve feels wrung out, physically and emotionally spent. Loki looks similarly drained but a small smile is playing on his lips as he stares into the middle distance. A little later he rolls over and whispers into Steve's ear, 'One more thing. Tell me I am not mad.'

'Maybe a little. But not enough to worry about..'

Loki nips his earlobe with sharp teeth, hard enough to make him yelp, and Steve pulls him toward him and kisses him, laughing. And then, a little later again, he hears Loki's voice from beside him, sounding calmer and more resolute than he has for some time. 'It is time.'

Steve sits up and looks over at Loki, who is still lying on his back, the smile still visible about the corners of his mouth. He turns his head toward Steve and his eyes are bright, almost fierce.

'I am ready.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much plot there, but I felt like I needed to give Loki a break! I also wanted to write Steve and Loki a love scene because, well, look at them. It's very tame by AO3 standards, but we all have to start somewhere - I'll probably be onto the hard stuff by the end of the week.  
> Thank you for reading, commenting and generally being much kinder than I think I deserve! X


	4. Duel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to kacikaci for taking the time to hold my hand through my very first writer's crisis - thanks kiddo!   
> It is a bit messy, as I'm very far out of my comfort zone at this point, and even the plot-holes have plot-holes. Hope you can just go with it..   
> Thank you again for reading!

It's so very cold. 

The black rocks shred the night sky and the bleakness of the landscape seems to leech all feeling from his soul, leaving only misery. Loki stands, a small lonely figure in the vast emptiness, and raises his face upward. Somewhere out there, separated from him by an eternity of space, is Midgard, and on Midgard is Steve Rogers. Loki doesn't know how or why he came to be here, he doesn't question it. He just understands that this is his punishment for daring to think he could be happy. Steve will go on with his life, maybe wondering from time to time what became of Loki, but he will move on because ultimately he deserves happiness. He deserves better. And meanwhile Loki will live out what remains of his life on this dead world, which once plagued the dreams of his childhood. Jotunnheim, the land of monsters. He's home.

He picks his way across the hostile terrain, jagged splinters of rock cutting into his bare feet. He is dressed in the insubstantial garments of Midgard which offer little protection against the bitter wind, and he hugs himself for warmth, his breath misting the air. Stumbling, his legs carry him forward, although he knows that in all probability he's heading toward his doom. But what other direction is there?

The palace is just as he remembers it, a harsh echo of the surrounding landscape. The very building exudes menace, an embodied threat to those who would dare to approach. And there in the centre stands Laufey's throne, a stark reminder of his own past schemes and ambitions. It seems apt that all his desperate plans for kingship have led him here at last, to a desolate world and an empty throne. With Steve, he had everything, but without him it all seems hollow,  especially the notion of power.

'We have been waiting for you.'

Loki spins around, but there's no-one there. He is already shivering so much with the cold that he barely notices the icy tingle of fear at the back of his neck. Turning back, he gasps to see a figure emerge from behind the throne, then another, and another. Soon he is surrounded by towering blue giants, all fixing him with baleful blood-red eyes.

'Welcome, son of Laufey.' The voice is deep and mocking. 'Come to claim your father's throne at long last?'

Loki tries to speak, but the cold has numbed his lips and tongue, and all that emerges is a strangled gasp. The Frost Giants erupt with cruel laughter and their leader taunts him, hissing, 'Is this the famed trickster, the liesmith of whom we have heard such tales? Truly Asgard is blessed to have the service of such a wicked tongue.'

Something hot and angry pushes through the fear, and Loki takes a step forward, his fists clenched at his sides, hardly knowing what he intends to do. But two Jotunn warriors seize his arms and at a signal from their leader, begin to drag him toward the throne. He cries out inarticulately, straining away, suddenly filled with dread for what the throne represents. At first it looms above him like a threat, but as he is drawn nearer and nearer to it, it shrinks until it is right before him and precisely the right size for his comparatively small physique. Terrified, he twists and wrenches in the grip of the Frost Giants, but they force him into a seated position, his hands gripping the arms of the throne. At once, bands clamp around his wrists, ankles and neck, effectively putting an end to his struggles. The two Jotunn draw back, and together they all watch him in solemn expectation.

In the silence and the stillness, all Loki can hear is his own panicked breathing. He looks down at his arms, only now realising that the contact with the Jotunn hasn't changed the colour of his skin. Admittedly his bare forearms are tinged with blue, but it's the pale blue of hypothermia, not the vivid Jotunn blue he remembers from the last time he was here. Otherwise he remains very much in his Asgardian form. Meanwhile, something is happening to the throne - ice crystals form on every surface, and begin to creep up his fingertips and along his arms. Loki is already so cold he can barely feel anything, but this is different - this cold _burns_. The agony builds, and as it spreads to his shoulders and chest, he writhes helplessly against his restraints. It's excruciating, but he grits his teeth, trying to control the pain. It's important that he stay conscious and alert, although he can't for the life of him remember why.

The Jotunn leader comes to peer down at him, no hint of pity on the craggy features, only disdain and mild curiosity. 'Do you understand now? There is no throne built that would bear the likes of you. You are not of Asgard, you are not of Midgard, and you are not of Jotunnheim. Where do you belong? What are you?'

**Loki.**

Suddenly, from somewhere deep inside his head he can hear the calm gentle voice of his mother. **Loki. Listen to me.**

The pain sears the skin of his throat and as the ice crystals begin to creep up toward his face, Loki feels panic begin to drive away his reason. He shakes his head as much as the collar will allow, trying to slow the insidious spread of the frost.

**Shh, shh. Be still, my son.**

I can't! He wants to cry, but the pain is too great. It's robbing him of his other senses and his throat is closing up. He can't swallow and soon he won't be able to breathe.

**Breathe deep, now - take the magic into you.**

Struggling, Loki focusses his mind on this one task and sucks in a deep desperate breath. Something thick and sweet fills his lungs like liquid and he is wracked by a fit of coughing, but then almost at once the fiery pain subsides and he feels his resolve and courage flow back into him. He is conscious of himself as something other than this poor tortured form and his will surges through him, burning with the desire to live.   

**Remember.**

He does, and the outline of a plan comes back to him. Thin and sketchy, yes, but it's something to work with. This cannot continue - he will not be used, tormented, done away with by a second-rate demon with a grudge. Not after he's made it this far. Not now that he really has something to fight for. Carefully Loki tests the constraints of his consciousness within this realm, sending out subtle feelers of thought. Concentrating hard on his bonds, he feels them slide back, releasing him, and he rises lithely to his feet. He looks up at the astonished face of the Jotunn leader with a knife-edge smile on his lips and speaks with cool authority,

'Enough.'

Astonishment turns to fury, and the Frost Giant reaches for him with a snarl, but Loki flickers and vanishes, reappearing a few yards away with his smile turning to mockery. 'Perhaps you are less clumsy in your true form,' he taunts. 'Show yourself, Demon. I wish to bargain with you and I do not find your current shape to my liking.'

The Jotunn begins to grow, dwarfing Loki who simply stands there, impassively staring him out. Bending down toward the god, the creature bellows, 'Sorcerer! You reek of magic, but do not expect that to save you. What do you hope to achieve with these childish tricks?'

Loki smirks. 'I count it a victory simply to have roused your anger. But in truth, I want more. I wish to be rid of you once and for all.'

The giant's laughter rebounds deafeningly from the surrounding rocks, but even as it laughs, the monster begins to grow smaller again. Blue skin turns to white, and a shock of greenish hair sprouts from a cadaverous skull. A glowering pale-eyed creature now faces Loki, its feet not quite touching the ground as it hisses at him, 'Whyever would I let you go when you are so much fun to play with!'

Loki's face is a mask of self-control, and only a faint tic at the corner of his mouth betrays his seething emotions. 'And if I am through with your games? I confess I do not find them as entertaining as you.'

Nightmare's ghostly face assumes a parody of concern. 'Regretful. Then let us see what else we can discover in that delicious mind of yours. Perhaps there is some new toy that will keep you amused..'

He glides toward Loki, who steps back, his eyes narrowing. 'I think I have had enough of you rooting around in my brain. Touch me again and I will...'

'You will what?' 

Loki looks momentarily uncertain and the demon laughs in his face. 'I thought so. You are powerless here, armed only with a handful of cheap conjurer's tricks. This is my realm and you know it. All your bravado cannot conceal your dread from me - it glows through your skin like pale fire.'

Loki's voice is quiet and his eyes downcast as he asks, 'What is it that you want from me? Do you wish for my death?'

The demon slips closer, circling the god hungrily. 'Oh no.... I don't want to kill you. I have decided to keep you! The taste of your fear is simply delectable! I could feast on nothing else. And so you will stay here as a guest in my realm, forever.' He leans in with a cruel whisper. 'You are never going to wake up.'

'All this, simply to revenge yourself on Captain Rogers?'

'Hmmm. At first, yes.' The demon reaches out now and lifts a lock of Loki's hair in its bony fingers, letting it slide through them sensuously. Loki doesn't bother to suppress a shudder of disgust. 'But I have quite forgotten him. Vengeance seems like a bland and tasteless dish compared to the banquet of horrors you have laid out for me.' A dry tongue runs over fleshless lips. 'And I cannot wait to taste more..'

Loki jerks his head away sharply. 'If you want my fear, then take it. It goes far deeper than you can imagine. I will show you everything if you promise that afterward you will never trouble me again.' Loki puts his cupped hands to his mouth and breathes into them as if warming them. But when he holds them out toward Nightmare, a black wormy mass squirms in his open palms. 'My deepest fears - the ones which dwell in the darkness at the bottom of my soul. Take them,' he repeats, 'and be satisfied.'

Nightmare sniffs daintily at the proffered handful and bares his teeth. 'Trickster! Did you think I would not know? You are hiding something from me - I can still see the fear behind your eyes.' He lunges forward and seizes Loki's face between his bony hands. 'Let me see what you are too afraid to show me.. ' Loki freezes, his eyelids fluttering as sharp fingernails dig into his temples. And then, as the demon releases him with a triumphant cry, he staggers back, clutching at his head. Nightmare rises above him, gloating. 'So! You fear submission above all things, you who were born a prince. I see a clinging dread of your former masters - well, let us see if they cannot rekindle your enthusiasm for the game.'

'No..' Loki shakes his head, his fingers still buried in his hair, and looks wildly about him. The other Jotunn had vanished with the return of his conscious mind, but now other forms begin to take shape. Three figures appear in a triangle around him, and as he whips round from one to the other, they take on the semblance of his three masters, the ones to whom he was once handed over as property at Odin's decree. 'No, no, no...' he whispers. The Jotunn, the Asgardian, and... his final master, Steve Rogers, they are all staring at him with the same expression - a mixture of cold curiosity and hunger. Loki's hand leaps reflexively to his throat, and he utters a desperate cry as his fingers close around the metal slave collar which kept his magic subdued and bound him to his owners for two years. Stumbling blindly, he tries to flee, but the Jotunn catches him by his arm and hurls him to the ground at the feet of the Asgardian. Loki sprawls clumsily and before he can regain his balance he is being hauled upright and held firmly against a fleshy body. Libidinous hands swarm over him and a thick tongue swipes lazily up his neck from his breastbone to his chin, nearly making him gag. And then he is being thrown down again at the feet of the Frost Giant. They are going to make this game last. 

Meanwhile Nightmare settles himself in the throne, colourless eyes glowing with delight. 'Such a fine spectacle,' he croons. 'My friends, he is yours. Do with him as you will.'

'Yes, he is ours,' they echo tonelessly. And Loki's fingernails tear and break as he claws at the rock beneath him. Now. He closes his eyes and pours every shred of his consciousness into one single thought. 

Steve. I trust you.

And as a shadow falls over him he doesn't look up because if he's wrong, if this doesn't work, then it will make no difference what he does. He'll be trapped in an unending nightmare of his own making and he doesn't want to have to see that uncaring look on Steve's face one more time. Instead he wants to remember the way the real Steve used to look at him, as though he were still trying to process the fact that Loki was real.

'No. He is mine.' Steve's voice is low and possessive and still Loki stares down at his own hands, braced against the rocky ground, hoping...

Then he hears the thud of bone against flesh and a heavy body hitting the ground. Moments later another form hurtles past him and collides with a wall. And then he is being lifted to his feet again but so gently this time, and supported against a muscular chest. He lets himself relax into it briefly, breathing in Steve's clean familiar scent and letting strong hands smooth back his tousled hair. And god, it feels like an eternity since another being touched him with affection, even though he knows now that that is a lie, one he has been falling for night after night. 

And Loki feels limp, boneless with relief as Steve tips his head back so that he can see the love shining from those blue eyes. And repeats the words for only him to hear, 'You're mine.'


	5. Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually can't decide which I like writing more, BAMF Loki or Vulnerable Loki, so I generally just settle for a combination of the two. And none more so than in this chapter!  
> Thank you again for enjoying this with me x

The landscape shudders around them and for an instant something threatens to bleed through. The dark crags of Jotunnheim are simply a veil cast over the dream dimension, upon which the horrors in Loki's own mind are being projected. (And grim as those horrors are, he _really_ doesn't want to see what's hiding behind them.) Meanwhile Nightmare is staring at Steve in utter incomprehension, eyes bulging like some ghastly deep sea dweller.

'It's not possible..'

Loki turns slowly, without losing contact with Steve. The figure behind him is a lifeline, more solid and real than he could have thought possible. He can feel even breaths stirring the hair on the back of his head, and warm hands on his shoulders, steadying him. This is a new sensation.. Growing up, he never truly felt as though anyone had his back, even Thor. Even his mother. She might have suspected that things were hard for him, that he understood there was something about him that was different and the other children felt it too, but she could never get him to admit it. And if Thor had known about the teasing and the casual cruelty, he would have defended his cherished younger brother to the end, but he never noticed. He strode through life with the thoughtless confidence of the terminally well-adjusted, and never saw Loki suffering in silence at his side. And there the seed of resentment was born, not toward the perpetrators but toward Loki's adoring older brother. Because Thor should have known all along that he needed help.

And now Loki understands something - that he will never need to ask Steve for help. Steve will give it freely, probably without even realising he's doing it, and most likely before Loki even knows he needs it. Loki's well aware this isn't over yet, that there's one more thing he has to do, but there's no longer any trace of fear in his mind. Something bright and fierce has scorched it away. 

The demon is pulsating with rage, lips pulled back in a snarl as he repeats, 'It's not _possible_!!'

Loki faces him calmly, one hand going up to his shoulder to twine with Steve's. 'Of course it is - anything is possible here. And if this is a game to you, am I not also allowed to play?'

Nightmare hisses at him through clenched teeth, but Loki laughs in his face. 'Or perhaps you have lost your taste for the sport? Just when I was beginning to enjoy myself...' Then suddenly the light tone drops away and his eyes harden. 'Give up. You have chosen the wrong victim.'

'Give up? I think not. It was an interesting move, I grant you, but a futile one. Your magic enables you to control this one meagre human, that is all. So I will simply have to destroy you both. I will splinter his bones while you watch, then use them to gut you.' Nightmare's confidence is returning as he recovers from the earlier challenge to his authority. 'You can play, Trickster, but you cannot win. You will not leave the game until I say it is over. Yes, you have your little Captain to protect you now, but wait - I will summon something powerful enough to crush you both.'

And Loki's face is pure malevolent delight as he glances over Nightmare's shoulder and replies quietly, 'There is no need - you already have.'

And Nightmare turns, because this world is his domain and he holds sway over every being in it. Until now. First Loki, then Steve, and now this - he can feel himself losing his grip. From the darkness behind him comes something huge and dark and uncontrollable, radiating pure evil. He looks up at a slab of a face, the livid purple of a hanged corpse, with eyes that speak of implacable death, and a lost feeling from long ago stirs within him. It lies cold in his belly and he wonders if this is what fear feels like. And then he thinks that it must be fear because there's no other sane reaction to coming face to face with Thanos. The face looms nearer and Nightmare lets out a shriek of terror, swooping to hide behind the throne. Thanos moves to follow him, but Loki holds out an imperious hand and he stops in his tracks as if frozen. Loki turns to Nightmare with a look of triumph on his face and remarks spitefully, 'I have been wondering - what are _you_ afraid of?'

'What insanity is this??' gibbers the terrified demon. 'You dare to bring the Mad Titan here, to my realm?'

'Ah no. Sadly my abilities do not extend that far. It was you who brought him here.'

'I? No! I did not see him when I scoured your mind. This is a trick, nothing more.'

Loki shakes his head. 'I cloaked him from you in my thoughts, but he was there nonetheless. And you brought him forth. You conjured up my former masters to torment me, and I have had four masters in my life, not three. Thanos was the first.'

'Liar!'

Loki laughs without humour. 'I cannot deny it. But in this instance, no. For a long time, I let myself believe that we were allies, but now I will allow the truth of it. Thanos does not have allies.' He looks thoughtfully at the gigantic figure in front of him. 'Captain Rogers is the manifestation of my faith in him, and as such poses no threat. But Thanos is something quite different. He is the vessel of all my darker emotions, and even I am not sure how long I can keep him in check. With that in mind, what would you have me do?'

Nightmare is shaking with outrage. 'Insolent.. base... devious..!'

Loki raises an eyebrow archly. 'If deviousness offends you, then perhaps you should not have presumed to lock horns with the God of Lies.'

He stretches out a hand again and Thanos continues to move toward the throne, his movements deliberate, predatory. Nightmare rakes at his own cheeks in his panic. 'Get out, get out, get out!' he shrieks. 'I release you, get out and take your abomination with you, sorceror!'

Loki takes a sudden step toward him and Nightmare shrinks back with a frightened squeak, but the god only takes a sardonic bow. 'I thank you for your hospitality,' he says, adding conversationally, 'And stay away from my friends, or I will destroy you.' And then he stands there smiling as the world disintegrates around them..

 

*

 

It is a gentle awakening, much gentler than any Loki has experienced for the past few weeks. Like rising slowly from the depths as opposed to a drowning man breaking the surface. The magic is still thick in his lungs and he feels lightheaded, but happy as he looks down to see two heads, both fair, bent over his bed on either side, and two hands grasping his own. Steve and Frigga are still unaware that he is awake, and Loki watches them for a moment, wondering that he never before noticed the similarities between them - the simple kindness, and the gentle yet fiercely protective nature. He is still musing on it when he suddenly notices Thor watching him in turn. Brash, thunderous Thor, who could never keep still or quiet when they were children, is sitting in an armchair across the room and gazing at him in absolute silence. He looks pale and weary, and there's a question in his eyes that speaks of untold anxiety. Touched, Loki answers the question with a smile, and the tension evaporates from Thor's body, leaving him visibly slumped. A sigh escapes him, and Steve and Frigga look up in alarm. Seeing Loki awake and smiling, Frigga puts a hand to her heart. 'Are you...?'

Loki squeezes her hand reassuringly. 'It is over.' And somehow as he says the words, the truth of it sinks in and he realises that he's won. Against all expectation, especially his own. He tries to thank them all, to say something that will convey the depth of the feelings that are threatening to overwhelm him, but he finds himself unable to speak. No doubt the magic is still affecting him on some level. He must look quite lost because Steve's face simply crumples and he comes to slide his hands under Loki's head and whisper soothing but unintelligible words into his hair. Loki frowns and as Steve straightens up, he points out testily, 'I am quite well, there is no need to fuss.' But he's instantly ashamed of how thin and childish his voice sounds, and the knowing glance that passes between Steve and his mother. 

'You are not well,' Frigga tells him firmly. 'You have spent a few hours in the dream dimension but that is not the same as sleep, and you need to rest properly. If you could only see yourself...' Steve and Thor are nodding in agreement, and Loki looks from one to the other in exasperation. He has just defeated Nightmare on the demon's own turf, and now he is being bullied into submission by his own family. How is he supposed to fight the combined force of their concern? To make matters worse, the door springs open and Tony Stark pokes his head into the room. After subjecting Loki to a thorough appraisal, he addresses the others - 'Sorry to break up the family reunion but JARVIS told me the patient was awake and I had to check for myself. Did we win? No more Freddy Krueger, right?'

Loki puts a hand to his head, which is starting to pound. 'I am right here, Stark, and besides, there is a good chance not one of them has the slightest idea what you are talking about. Do you do it deliberately?'

Tony turns an affectionate grin on him. 'No need to answer, he's definitely back. OK, I'll come back later, just wanted to make sure - I'll tell the others to stand down.' And with that, and a sharp look from Steve, he's gone.

The magic must be getting stronger again because Loki's vision is starting to blur, and Steve's face is fading and and out, but he demands to know, 'Stand down from what?'

Steve shakes his head. 'It doesn't matter now. We'll talk later, I promise.'

But Loki struggles to sit up, despite the fact that his head now feels as heavy as lead and his arms are like putty. 'Stand down from _what_? What's happening? Are we in danger?'

Steve sighs, and sits heavily down on the side of the bed. 'No, not any more, but it was touch and go for a while there.' Loki's hand reaches out to grip his arm, and as Steve covers it with his own, Loki feels a tremble in those strong capable hands. 'We didn't know if we were going to lose you and we needed a Plan B at the ready. So we... ' he turns to look at Frigga who lowers her head in agreement, 'we were trying to find a way to come and get you if it all went wrong.' He shrugs helplessly. 'I mean, there have to be other ways into the dream dimension, right? At least that's what the others thought. Bruce is talking to Heimdall about it, Tony's in contact with SHIELD, and Clint and Natasha are trying to find Stephen Strange because apparently he's been there himself. Partly I guess it was just something to keep them busy - they all wanted to help. But there was no way we were going to just leave you there...' He trails off, looking uncomfortable, and Loki continues to stare at him in disbelief. He simply doesn't know how to react to this new development, and it doesn't help that he's so very tired. The heavy feeling is gone and everything feels light now, so light that he could just float up off the bed and only Steve's hand on his is tethering him to the earth. Emotions float past like clouds but he can barely register them. He thinks he might be angry at the idea of them all risking so much for his sake, or humiliated at the thought of being rescued. But then he's not so sure and it doesn't really seem to matter anyway.  

In fact all that matters now is that Steve is easing him carefully down again and settling his head on the pillow, and he whispers 'don't leave me' and Steve whispers back 'never' and he believes him and then he's floating away and nothing matters at all..


	6. Home

Hours later, Loki wakes from the first normal dream he's had in years. He doesn't remember much of it - it was ordinary, nonsensical, a dream like any other. And as trivial as that seems, he is aware of the full significance. During his time as a slave he had stopped dreaming altogether because he felt that nothing truly belonged to him - not even the inside of his own head. Afterwards it took him some time to readjust to his autonomy, and now, finally, he has accepted it inside and out. His mind is his again, and no other's. Even his dreams.

 

Meanwhile Frigga and Steve are sitting on the couch at the far side of the room, talking in low voices. He can just make out the words, and curious, he watches them furtively through lowered lashes. They look close, comfortable, and Loki wonders how long he has been asleep that they have become so companionable. Then again, shared anxiety does have a way of letting people skip the formalities.

 

'I wonder if you realise how much has changed that Loki would allow himself to ask for help,' Frigga is saying. 'And you have played a great part in that. His trust in you is something new and very precious, and I know that you are worthy of it.'

 

Steve looks embarrassed, but Frigga continues before he can demur. 'He would never let anyone help him even when he was a child. I tried, but...' She pauses, and Steve takes her hand and squeezes it until she is ready to go on. 'Whenever he was hurt, he would always hide himself away and suffer in silence. Once he had been gored by a... by a wild beast of our realm while out hunting alone - he shut himself in a secluded room and tried to heal himself. Thor tore the palace apart looking for him and Loki was close to death when he finally found him. If he had not...' She shudders at the memory. 'It was the first time I truly feared we might lose him, and be assured it was not the last. The greatest danger to Loki has always been his own pride.'

 

Steve nods. 'I'm not going to disagree with you, ma'am. He's done some pretty stupidly reckless things since I've known him and I can't make him understand how much it frightens me. It's just... I can't lose him. I couldn't...'

There's a quaver in Steve's voice and now it is Frigga's turn to comfort him, putting her arm around him. Habitually jealous, Loki is surprised to find himself unthreatened by his mother's open display of affection. Rather he is glad to see Steve enjoying the motherly comfort he has been deprived of for so long. It is curious, he muses - he is learning new and interesting things about love every day.

 

'I remember when Odin brought him home, so small and helpless.' Frigga's voice is tender. 'Even then Loki's instinct was to hide his true nature. Always trying to prove himself, and he would never accept that he had nothing to prove to those who loved him. For years I watched him struggle to be more like his brother, thinking he was not good enough, and it broke my heart. My strange beautiful child - his whole life has been a battle between his pride and his need to be loved. I don't believe Loki ever really wanted to rule, but he is afraid of being left behind so he pushes himself to overtake.'

 

Steve nods thoughtfully, and Frigga bestows a sweet smile on him. 'Poor Loki, he has always been so unsure of who he is, and it is really very simple. He is my beloved son, and his father's although he does not wish to hear it. To Thor he will always be a brother, and to others, a friend, or an ally. But in his desperation to define himself, he often forgets what is most important - that he is Loki. He is himself. Your love will help him to understand that.'

 

Steve speaks slowly, uncertainly, but as he always does, from the heart. 'I'm a soldier, I don't have Loki's way with words, but I do tell him how I feel as often as I can and I like to think it might actually be sinking in. Whenever I told him how much I loved him.. ' Steve looks down, not used to talking like this to someone else, '.. he used to have this look on his face, a bit like I was talking in a foreign language he couldn't understand. It was as though he liked the sound of it, but it was gibberish to him, you know?'

Frigga nods encouragingly and Loki thinks that yes, she probably does know. Steve continues, 'But it's changing, I think. Like he's starting to get the hang of the language at last. And I promise, I'll never stop trying to get him to understand how I feel. It's important to me that he can see himself the way I see him - even if it's just for a moment.' He trails off but Frigga continues to look at him with warmth.

 

'You have a good heart, Captain. Your parents must have been very proud of you.'

 

'I...don't know. I hope so, I was quite young when they died.'

 

'Believe me, they were. You are all a mother could hope for in a son. Or indeed a son-in-law.'

 

Steve blushes, and she cups his cheek with one hand and kisses him on the other.

 

Flustered, Steve brings the conversation around to Odin again and Frigga's eyes grow sad. 'My hope is that one day he and Loki will be reconciled, but I know it will not be easy. Loki learnt stubbornness from his father. Odin loves him deeply, but it still pains him to talk about what happened. You can't imagine how hard it was for him to enforce Loki's punishment, but he felt he had no choice. I watched the decision eat away at him. And perhaps he had underestimated the cruelty to be found amongst his own people.' Her expression darkens with unaccustomed anger and Loki finds himself imagining for the first time what it must have been like for her - an entire year knowing that her youngest son was being brutalised and degraded within the very walls of her city, and at her own husband's decree. Through those dark months, he had nursed his anger, imagining that his family were all unmoved by his plight - and who knows, perhaps that anger had served some purpose, given him a focus. But also he could never bear to see his mother upset, so in some ways it was simply easier not to imagine her grief and pain.

 

Frigga's eyes flash dangerously as she adds, 'But Loki's former master is no longer with us. The law could not touch him, but he dared to pick a fight with Thor over Loki's honour. Mjolnir dispenses a swifter, but more permanent brand of justice.'

 

Loki makes a small involuntary sound, and they both look over at him, almost guiltily.

 

'Feeling better?' Steve asks, and yes, he is, a thousand times better, but he just nods slightly, annoyed with himself for breaking the spell of their quiet bonding. But it's too late, the moment is over and they are both now entirely focussed on him.

 

'You certainly look better,' Steve comments happily. 'You've got some colour now - not a lot, obviously, but that just goes to show how ill you looked before.'

 

'Where's Thor?' Loki asks, more to change the subject than anything, and Frigga tells him that he had returned to Asgard as soon as it was clear Loki was out of danger, being still deeply immersed in his new role as ruler. 'And now I think I will follow him and leave you two alone.' Feeling like a teenager on a first date, Loki protests, pointing out that she might have seen plenty of him, but he has seen very little of her, having slept through most of her visit. She bends down and kisses him on the forehead. 'Then come back to Asgard soon. I know your home is here now, but surely you could honour us with a short visit?' Loki hesitates, but she sees through his doubt. 'I believe you will find the attitudes of the people much changed toward you. You have paid your penance, and more, and they know this. And besides, I do not insist that you try and make peace with your father - that desire must come from you - but he will be ready whenever you wish to talk to him.'

 

She turns away quickly before Loki can say anything sharp, and presses Steve's hand. 'I leave my son in your care. You have your work cut out but I know you are equal to the task. Keep him safe.' And turning back to Loki, 'Look after Captain Rogers also - he is part of our family now, and I know he loves you as I love you.'

 

Well, not exactly as you love me - the mischievous remark is on the top of his tongue but Loki restrains himself. Sometimes it's better, he's learning, to just appreciate the moment. A tendency to undermine genuine emotions with glib comments is one of the many traits he shares with Tony Stark.

 

With Frigga gone, Loki begins to rise but Steve comes to sit on the end of his bed.

'Don't get up just yet - it's so good to see you like this, in bed and rested like any other morning. I'd almost forgotten what that looked like.'

 

'You are not alone in that,' Loki smiles. 'I have missed this. I have missed sleeping without fear, and waking without confusion. I feel free.'

 

'And it's really over, you're sure? The plan worked?'

 

Loki nods. 'I had to improvise just a little, but yes, I do not think Nightmare will trouble us again.' But then his expression turns serious. 'There will always be someone trying to come between us, you do know that?'

 

'Of course. That's what happens when you take a stand against wrongdoers.'

 

Only Steve can say things like that without sounding utterly ridiculous, and Loki looks at him fondly. 'And it does not deter you?'

 

Steve shakes his head. 'I meant what I said earlier, I would have found a way to bring you back. And not just me either - we're not alone in this. And whoever or whatever tries to defeat us, we'll fight it together.'

 

There is still doubt in Loki's eyes. 'I wish my belief were as strong as yours. It is hard having so much to lose. Harder perhaps than being alone.'

 

Steve moves closer to him up the bed and says quietly, 'I'm sorry but I really can't believe things were that much easier when you were...'

 

'Go on, say it.' Loki urges him. 'When I was evil.'

 

Steve frowns reproachfully. 'I was going to say conflicted. I hate it when you do that.'

 

Loki shrugs. 'Can the God of Lies not allow himself to be truthful on occasion?'

 

'Stop it! I'm serious, you make a joke of this and I usually keep quiet, but... do you think I could love you like I do if there was real evil in you? I'm not denying for a minute that you were one heck of a mess, just.. it's like your mother was saying (and yes of course I know you were awake and listening, do you think I can't tell by now?) - don't rush to define yourself too quickly. It doesn't help you and it doesn't begin to describe who you are. So stop it, ok? For me? You're you and that's that. Beautiful, amazing, totally undefinable. You.'

 

Loki sighs. 'I suppose I can live with that. I have been so many things in my life - a prince, a king, an outcast, a slave. I would like for a while to be just.. me.'

 

'Good then. I'm glad that's settled.'

 

Loki tries to get up again but Steve puts a firm hand on his leg.

 

'Stay. Let me look after you for once.'

 

And maybe, he thinks, it wouldn't be so bad, to let someone care for him for a little while. Loki collapses back against the pillows and Steve looks boyishly pleased. 'What do you want? I'll get it for you. Coffee? Those Danish things you like? Anything - just ask. I want to give you whatever you want, whatever you need. If you'll let me.'

 

Loki looks uncomfortable. 'I do not need anything right now, only...'

 

'What, tell me.'

 

'There is just one thing...'

 

Loki kneels forward on the bed to take Steve's hands, and places them gently around his own throat. Alarmed, Steve finds he can easily encircle that narrow neck with both hands and the fragility under his powerful grasp makes his heart skip a beat. Loki is watching him intently and he lets his hands rest there for a moment before sliding them slowly up into Loki's hair. Loki's eyes close blissfully and Steve drinks him in before guiding Loki's mouth to his. He kisses him deeply, like taking a long draught from a priceless goblet, before murmuring into the god's ear.

 

'Are you convinced now? I'm real and I'm not trying to kill you. OK?'

 

'OK.' Loki turns serious again. 'I hope you realise how important this is - trust does not come easily to me. But with you, I think...'

 

'Shhh...' The lips that press his again are warm and real and Loki forgets about speech for a while, and remembers that not everything that is true can be put into words.

 

 

* * * * * 

 

 

Two days later JARVIS summons Loki to the top of Stark Tower to deal with a problem. It's a small problem apparently, and he doesn't give it much thought as he makes his way to the penthouse, but when he gets there, he can't quite believe he didn't see it coming. Again. They are all lounging around, Clint, Natasha, Bruce and Thor - Steve making a space for him on the couch while Tony opens a bottle of champagne, and for a second he nearly bolts. It's now the third time he has lived through this exact same scenario and it's hard to forget how the last one ended.

 

'Aha, are you _ever_ going to _not_ fall for that?' Thor shouts out, delighted, and somehow this deviation from the usual formula instantly puts Loki at his ease. He settles himself next to Steve, who places a reassuring arm around his shoulders.

 

Tony passes around the brimming glasses and as he puts one in Loki's hand, he explains, 'Steve told us about **that** dream. And it didn't seem fair that a good memory should be spoiled like that so we're going to recreate it for you without all the general unpleasantness and the throwing of innocent people through windows, etcetera. Now I can't guarantee it's going to be exactly the same - some of us were pretty drunk that night,' (he looks at Loki with mock sternness) 'but we'll do our best.'

 

He raises his glass and the others follow suit. 'I'll keep it brief because there's serious drinking to be done, but we - everyone, that is - just wanted to welcome you back to the world of the living, and the more-or-less sane. And I for one am incredibly relieved that we didn't have to come and get you because the whole dream dimension thing sounds frankly less than fun. But we would have, because as I think I've mentioned before, Loki, you're one of us. And we're not letting you get away that easily.'

 

Loki looks round at Steve who is smiling at him encouragingly. He is too moved, too full of emotion to express himself at length, but he feels he must say something to these amazing people, his friends, who were ready to risk everything to save him. He raises his glass and says in a voice with only a hint of a tremor in it, 'Nor would I wish to get away. I have found my place in the universe at last, thanks to you all. There is no greater gift...' 

 

He can't go on, but he has said what he needed to say, and glasses are raised and drained, and refilled again. And later there is vodka, and Natasha teaches him how to swear in Russian, and he and Clint compete at the knife game while they both chuckle at Steve's disapproving face, and then there's brandy and Tony gets into a mock fight with Thor over whether or not either of them can technically fly, and Bruce makes them all try some drink he distilled in the lab which is delicious but so potent that even Steve feels the effects. And then Loki's dancing with Natasha, and they're both laughing, but his eyes are slipping closed and it's only when she winds her arms around him and kisses his neck that he opens them in surprise and realises that at some point Steve has taken her place. 

 

'Mmm, I believe I am a little drunk,' he mumbles sleepily, and Steve laughs as Loki sways against his broad chest. 'I think I might require your assistance in finding my room. If it's not too much trouble.'

 

'It's no trouble at all,' Steve replies, sweeping him easily off his feet. And by the time they reach Loki's room, it transpires that Loki is not as tired, or as inebriated as he had initially thought, and neither is Steve, and the magic of that night is more than enough to eclipse the memory of what had gone before, and to sustain them for a very long time after.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's over, and I hope I made it up to Loki in the end, after putting him through hell. I want him to be happy when all's said and done.
> 
> I'm not even going to pretend to myself any more that I can stop doing this, plus I had a dream at the weekend that I really want to turn into a Frostiron one-shot, so I'm going to leave 'Belonging' for now and work on that. Thank you all so much for reading - it's been lovely sharing this and getting your feedback. Bye for now - Excelsior! X


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